


"Friends"

by illogicalBones



Series: Hypocrisy, Thy Name is Doctor [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalBones/pseuds/illogicalBones
Summary: Technically, McCoy and Uhura were friends.If there was a list of things two people needed to accomplish before they could refer to the other as “my friend” in casual conversation, they would have checked them all off. Neatly and in order, because they were both overachievers like that.And yet.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Series: Hypocrisy, Thy Name is Doctor [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684300
Comments: 6
Kudos: 133





	"Friends"

**Author's Note:**

> Not necessary to read the original story. But it adds to it. Alternate title "Not Going to the Bathroom"

Technically, McCoy and Uhura were friends.

If there was a list of things two people needed to accomplish before they could refer to the other as “my friend” in casual conversation, they would have checked them all off. Neatly and in order, because they were both overachievers like that. They’d had plenty of heart to hearts. It seemed impossible to be near someone on this ship for more than 10 minutes before both parties became overwhelmed with the need to bare their souls. They’d survived unsurvivable missions, usually because they were the ones left behind on the ship, safe. And they shared a favorite past time in common: giving Jim shit endlessly, without cause or mercy. Uhura was brutal in her bullying. She was fluent in hundreds of languages including, it seemed, insecurities because no one was better at pinpointing your deepest flaws that she was. Especially those flaws you didn’t even know you needed to be insecure about. But they were friends, so she never got to “read” him. Or, if did, she kept it to herself.

Usually.

Afterwards, it’d taken a week for him to look her in the eye again. He’d felt betrayed, armor exposed, three decades of life reevaluated.

He’d been a little less than half asleep, warm from Jim’s body heat, and rubbing at his eyes with clumsy hands. He liked to get up two hours before his shift started. Jim thought he was crazy, but he needed that time to fully wake up and ready himself for the day. He liked to calmly eat breakfast, reading reports at the desk in the corner, while Jim snored on the bed. It was comforting. It was two hours he got to fully spend to himself. He lived for it.

The door the bathroom opened for him automatically as he stumbled over to it.

“Oh, Leonard. Hi.”

He blinked a couple times. The door slid shut behind him. He blinked a couple more times. Uhura was leaning against the sink, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt with the words “Kansas City Slew Rollers” across the front.

He tensed.

“Um. Nyota,” he greeted. He looked down at himself as calmly as he could.

“Oh thank God,” he sighed. He was wearing boxers. Uhura laughed.

“Nice shirt,” he snapped back. Uhura looked down at the neon shirt.

“Oh thanks. Spock let’s me wear it whenever I sleep over and it—”

McCoy threw his hands up over his ears. “ _Stop stop stop_ , I don’t want to hear a goddamn word about you—you and Spock and your—whatever. Not at 0500.”

Uhura rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror.

McCoy stood awkwardly in the door, folding his arms to cover himself as best he could. He didn’t like the idea that while he was sleeping over at Jim’s, Spock and Uhura were on the other side of the wall... _sharing t shirts_. He didn’t like the implication that Uhura and Spock’s relationship had anything in common with him and Jim’s. The fact that only a wall separated them was something he had purposefully repressed. It helped that, in the months he’d been staying primarily over in Jim’s quarters, this had never happened. He’d never walked in on Uhura or Spock. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like different. But he couldn’t back down now. Uhura would never let him forget that she’d so thoroughly shaken him.

He waited 30 more seconds before finally moving beside Uhura. He pulled his toothbrush from the top drawer.

“Ohhh, a toothbrush. You guys are getting pretty serious.”

McCoy glared at her reflection, brushing with purpose.

“Ah, young love,” she just crooned back, combing her hair back tightly.

_“I’m very uncomfortable right now, just so you know.”_

“I know. It’s very sweet, Leonard.”

McCoy spit into the sink and refused to say anything back. He could do this. 30 more seconds of brushing his teeth and he could leave, escaping from this moment forever. 

“It’s weird that you’re so quiet in the morning,” Uhura said, finishing her ponytail with a twist. McCoy slammed his toothbrush back into the drawer and raised an eyebrow. Uhura turned, leaning against the sink.

“Seeing as you were so loud last night.”

McCoy’s brain completely shut down for a full second. He blinked and suddenly was halfway out the door, Uhura’s laugh trailing after him.

His uniform pants were thrown across the desk, along with his left sock. He shoved both of them on and kicked the chair out of his way.

“Bones?” Jim popped his head out from under the blankets. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready in my quarters,” McCoy growled, pulling his uniform on roughly.

“Oh,” Jim said, rubbing his face. “Are you going to come up to the bridge today? We’re passing by the—”

“ _No_.”

“What? Why?”

“Ask Uhura,” McCoy snapped, just as he made it out the door.

+

He was dying. Of that, he was sure.

The floor gave a sudden jerk and he gripped the toilet bowl tighter. He breathed out. Breathed in. Breathed out. _Easy_ , _easy_. But the ship shook again and he lost his control, throwing up in the toilet under him.

He was so tired. He wished Jim was there.

As soon as he’d thought it, the bathroom door slid open.

The wrong bathroom door. The lights in the bathroom switched on.

“ _What the fuck—”_

“ _What the hell_ — _”_

He’d spoken at the same time as Uhura, who was startled to see him. Which marked the one and only time he’d ever seen her even remotely put off-guard. She recovered quickly, however. Her eyes were narrowed when he looked up at her, shielding his eyes from the harsh light. She looked him up and down.

“What...what is this?” she finally asked. “What’s happening?”

McCoy would have rolled his eyes if he could. She sounded so much like Spock it made him want to throw up again. 

_“Are you drunk?”_

McCoy snorted.

“I wish,” he mumbled miserably. He rested his forehead on his knees. He breathed deeply for a few seconds. He heard Uhura take a step back and could feel her looking him up and down.

The ship vibrated suddenly, underneath their feet.

“No—”

He was cut off as the ship hit something—or, more accurately, something hit them—and they ricocheted. Uhura grabbed onto the counter as McCoy held tight to the toilet. _No no no no_. There was a thirty second pause after the ship seemed to right itself where he and Uhura sat in silence. He ruined it, of course, by throwing up.

More silence from Uhura. Then...

“Oh my God. You’re—”

“Don’t say it.”

“— _seasick_.”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second before looking up at Uhura, who was leaning against the counter like it was the most casual thing in the world. And she was smiling.

“It’s called motion sickness nowadays, but yeah.”

“I didn’t know—”

“Anyone still got it? Yes, they do. The future can’t cure everything, Nyota,” he grumbled. He’d heard every joke before and knew exactly what to expect someone to say before they even thought it. It was easier to cut them off. “There isn’t a hypo for it. There isn’t anything for it besides time, patience, and chicken soup.”

The thought of food at all, however, was enough to make his stomach churn. Blood had rushed to his eyes as he tried to focus on breathing, so it took him a minute to realize Uhura was laughing at him. Genuine, shaking shoulders, unprofessional laughter. It echoed around the small bathroom, surrounding him on all sides.

“I’m sorry, Leonard,” she managed, using the counter for support. “I...I don’t know why I find this as funny as I do. I’m sorry.”

But she continued to laugh. And if it had been at anyone else’s expense, he would have enjoyed seeing her like this. In all the years he’d known her, first at the academy and now as a crewmember, she’d never let herself laugh so freely. But she was laughing at him so fuck her.

He glared at her from his spot on the floor.

“It’s just,” she said, in between giggles. “You work...on a starship...in space.”

“I’m aware.”

She wiped her eyes. Her makeup remained intact despite the tears. Of course. “For years! You’ve been on this ship for years!”

“ _I know_.”

That set her off again. She laughed harder, one hand on the counter and the other holding her stomach.

“I hate you.”

The door opened beside her. The right door this time. He looked up miserably to see Jim framed in the doorway, his concerned eyes meeting McCoy’s.

“Bones,” he breathed, rushing right past Uhura until he could drop down next to McCoy. “I’m sorry.”

His hand instantly went to McCoy’s lower back, rubbing small circles there as he looked McCoy up and down. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, Jim.”

The conversation was tenser than was warranted. But he was exhausted and embarrassed Uhura had walked in on him.

“I know it’s not,” Jim sighed. “I still feel guilty.”

“Thanks.”

They stared at each other, stuck in a moment that Uhura broke with an uncomfortable cough.

Jim and McCoy looked up.

“I’m going to get back to the bridge,” she said, backing towards the exit. “I... hope you feel better, Leonard.”

McCoy could _feel_ the smirk in her voice. Jim, oblivious, just nodded.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, turning back to McCoy.

Just as Uhura stepped back into Spock’s quarters, she gave him one last smile and he glared after her until the door slid shut.

+

McCoy couldn’t sleep.

Under the blankets, he pulled Jim closer. He wrapped his arm around him until he could place his palm flat against Jim’s chest, feeling the slow rise and fall as he snored quietly. It was the only cure for days like today. McCoy couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus on anything other than the simple truth that Jim was alive. He was still here, in McCoy’s arms, the fixed point in the universe they shared together, and he’d get see him in the morning when they woke up. Days like today reminded him tomorrows weren’t guaranteed.

He buried his face into the back of Jim’s neck and just breathed. They’d have a tomorrow—a hundred of them. Hundreds of thousands of tomorrows to wake up to. Jim shifted beneath him and his snoring stopped. In the second it took for Jim to relax and start snoring again, McCoy heard it.

Crying.

In the next second, he got it.

He carefully extracted himself out from behind Jim. He grabbed one Jim’s sweatshirts hanging off the back of the couch and slipped it on over his pajamas. He’d planned on knocking quietly, putting the decision whether or not to open the door in her hands. But as he’d stepped up the door had automatically slid open.

Uhura was sitting on the floor.

She looked up at him as the door opened, her knees pulled up to her chest. She’d obviously been crying. McCoy put his hands in the front pocket of the sweatshirt and gave a sad smile.

“You too, huh?”

Uhura wiped at her eyes roughly. “It’s stupid.”

McCoy hesitated in the doorway.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

Which was apparently the wrong thing to say because Uhura dropped her face into her hands and let out a muffled sob. McCoy took a step into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him as he lowered himself onto the floor next to Uhura. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. He put his arm around her shaking shoulders and sat in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Uhura leaned against him. More and more until her face was against his chest and he could wrap both arms around her.

“It’s okay,” he said.

And he held onto her, repeating the words every so often as she cried into Jim’s sweatshirt. They stayed like that for minutes or hours. McCoy didn’t know. He wasn’t crying but, in the moment, he still felt the same cathartic lull that crying usually signaled; Uhura crying was enough for the two of them. At some point, she stopped. She went quiet in his arms and he slowly let her go.

She leaned her head back against the cabinet. McCoy mimicked the action, crossing his legs in front of him.

“They’re idiots.”

Her voice was raw, but there was still her sharpness there; a regality that always undercut her words. Nobody knew language like she did.

“I know,” he agreed.

In a moment that was already unexpected, she surprised him even further by taking her hand in his. This reinforced something McCoy had always known but had yet to prove about the lieutenant: she had a gentle soul, but only showed it when she wanted to.

“Why can he never be happy staying back on the ship?”

McCoy knew she didn’t mean Jim. He gave an exaggerated frown.

“Spock...happy?”

Uhura laughed but squeezed his hand in warning. “You’re an asshole.”

“I don’t mean it.”

“I know.”

McCoy squeezed her hand back.

“The thing about the two of them,” he started. He cleared his throat and tried again. “They’ll never care about themselves more than they care about this ship.”

Uhura turned to him then. Her gaze is steady and unapologetic.

“Oh, really? Is that their problem?”

The sarcasm was creeping into her voice. It was a trick question and he didn’t know what to do.

“Yes?”

Again, that was the wrong thing to say, apparently. She elbowed him in the ribs.

“ _What the fuck_ —”

“You’re just as bad as they are, Leonard,” she snapped. “So don’t give me that shit.”

McCoy rubbed at his ribs. “I would not sacrifice myself for this ship.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Uhura agreed. “But for Jim? For Christine? You’d take a phaser shot to the chest for any of your friends.”

She had him there.

Given the chance, he’d chose their lives over his. Any day of the week.

“When did this become about me?” he said, because that was easier than admitting anything.

“That’s not a no.”

“No, it’s not. But this isn’t about me,” he stressed. “It’s about your idiot and my idiot.”

Uhura tore her hand out of his.

“ _What about me?”_

McCoy paused at the non-sequitur. Uhura looked at him like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“You’re all my idiots,” she said. “And I have to worry about all three of you jumping in front of the phaser for me.”

Oh.

“Oh,” he echoed out loud. Uhura nodded.

“My whole life,” she said. “People have sacrificed themselves for me. And I never asked for that. I’ve never wanted that. And this isn’t me trying to give some bullshit _I don’t deserve it_ speech.”

“Nyota—"

She interrupted him.

“It’s hard to always be the one left behind, Leonard.”

Her point hit home. He’d been on the other side of this, with Jim. More times than he could count. It was _their_ fight, the one that they cycled back to again and again, so much so that even when they weren’t active arguing about it, it was still there; thrumming under the surface, hiding in the silences between _I_ and _love_ and _you_.

He grabbed her hand again and looked at the far wall.

“Yeah,” he said softly.

They didn’t say anything for awhile after that. Eventually, though, Uhura pulled her hand away, using it to grab the counter ledge and pull herself up. She held out a hand.

“I’m tired.”

And when McCoy thought about it, he was too. He took her hand and she pulled him up off the ground. Before he let go he pulled her into another hug.

“I will never sacrifice myself for you,” he said and she laughed quietly against his chest.

“That’s all I ask,” she said.

They let go. McCoy smiled softly and Uhura nodded before they both turned and headed out their respective doors.

McCoy tip toed across the room, avoiding uniforms and boots that had been tossed thoughtlessly aside when they’d gone to bed early. He slid under the covers as gently as he could.

“Alright?”

Jim’s voice was muffled and distant, like he wasn’t truly awake enough to process an answer. McCoy wrapped his arms around him and kissed the back of his neck.

“I’m okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> For long time readers of the original, you might recognize this chapter. It originally was part of the main story. But, going forward, the chapters will be individual stories rather than one big uncompleted mess.


End file.
